


Ruins

by LuckyBishop



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Lots of Angst, Natasha Romanoff is not, Not Canon Compliant, Okoye is suspicious, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Infinity War, Suicidal Thoughts, T'Challa and Shuri are good friends, Wanda's powers are magic, additional tags to come as work progresses, at first, not the result of experimentation, so is M'Baku, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyBishop/pseuds/LuckyBishop
Summary: CANCELLEDI'm leaving what's here up because it's a good reminder for me to keep working on my writing but this isn't going anywhere anymore sorry y'all.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a fic in a really long time. Also, this is the first work that I've ever posted on AO3! I have an idea (that I already started writing out) of a companion to this fic that focuses on different characters. So, please let me know if you like the characters, the story, anything! 
> 
> I'm going to try my best to update about once a week, as I get back in the habit of writing again.
> 
> Thanks for reading - I hope you enjoy!

Wanda Maximoff did not want to love Vision. Generally, Wanda Maximoff did not want to love anyone. The risk of loss was just too high – she had only ever loved three people, all of whom had been taken from her, violently. She never got to prepare to lose a loved one – they were always ripped away from her in seconds. This left her resolute that she would never experience that type of loss again. Quietly, privately, she mourned the fact that it meant she would never let herself love again. And then, when she finally let go and loved again, the only way to save the world from the terrible loss she knew was to lose again, and she did.

Losing Vision felt exactly the same as the other loss that Wanda felt in her life, only completely different. There had always been someone else to blame, it had always been someone else’s fault, no matter how much guilt she always felt. But this time, even if it was Thanos’ fault, Vision’s blood was quite literally on her hands and there was no way around that. Wanda saw Thor’s arrival, saw him cleave Thanos’ head clear off his shoulders, knew that the war had been won but all she could feel was loss. There was no victory here. Not for her, anyway. And for a long, terrible moment, she wished she hadn’t done it.

She wished that Thor had come ten minutes earlier. She even wished she had been too selfish to kill Vision – wished that Thanos had done it himself, taken the stone, snapped his fingers, and killed her too. Because there was no victory for her here. There was no grand celebration – no, they were all too battle-weary. But all the faces around her showed great relief. She was alone in her grief, and alone in the world.

* * *

 

Wanda felt incredibly out of place in the palace of Wakanda. Granted, she had not had a home in an incredibly long time, but she knew what it meant to not belong somewhere. And she was certain that she didn’t belong here. It didn’t help that she couldn’t even _remember_ going to the palace. Didn’t know where Vision’s body was – didn’t care to know. She didn’t care to see the wounds she had inflicted in person when they were everywhere whether her eyes were open or closed. She heard nothing anyone said to her, if they did at all.

She noticed nothing until she was as alone in a room too colorful, too comfortable. She was used to cages, not luxury. She couldn’t understand why she wasn’t locked up – she had killed again. It didn’t matter if it saved anyone. She shouldn’t be in a palace, she should be in a prison. Hell, why even bother putting her in a prison? She should be dead. It was practically all she could think – _I should be dead_.

“My condolences,” a voice said from the door Wanda didn’t see open. She found it in herself to look up at the man – a stranger, as they had never met, but she knew who he was. The king of Wakanda – T’Challa. The man she supposed she should thank for his hospitality, but she could not. It was so pointless – everything so meaningless. “This must be incredibly difficult for you,” he continued, although Wanda made no move to acknowledge him, “and if there is anything more that I can do, please just let me know. You are welcome to stay here as long as you like.”

That part did surprise her – she did not think that hospitality toward criminals would extend so long. “Really?” she asked, voice dry from disuse. “You would allow me to stay here after I have spilled blood on your lands – not in a prison cell, but in a palace? In your own home?”

T’Challa stepped further into the room, wanting to comfort this woman he did not know, wanting her to understand that he could process her loss, her anger. He wanted her to know that she was not a monster – that Thanos was, that the grief inside her was, but not her. Unfortunately, words did not come easily to him, so he settled for the reassurance he could give her. “You are not a criminal here. You fought to protect these lands and this world, and you will be treated as such. I have no reason not to trust you.”

“You will figure it out,” she said, closing her eyes and turning from him. He would understand eventually what she was, all she had done. Then she could find somewhere else to be. But for now, there was nowhere else to go, so she laid down and closed her eyes. If she could not die, she would sleep.

* * *

 

When she awoke, part of Wanda wanted to know why none of the Avengers had come to her, tried to comfort her as T’Challa had. They might have, she figured, in the immediate aftermath of the battle. But she could not remember, and frankly it did not matter. They too, knew what she was, and knew it was best to keep their distance. In the back of her mind she wondered if they would be the ones to handcuff her, lead her away from this place. She could not bring herself to care enough to worry.

She sat up, looking at the sheets that she had completely soiled, having not cleaned herself up at all after the battle, and decided she should probably shower. As she went to do so, having found the bathroom with relative ease, she froze as she realized she had no clothes to change into. Only her armor – her costume – covered in the blood of her beloved and countless others. Wanda decided she would never wear it again as she stripped it off. She had no plans to leave the room, so it did not matter if she had clothes or not. There were always the filthy sheets of the bed to protect her modesty, at the very least.

However, when she left the bathroom feeling no cleaner than she had when she walked in, regardless of how she looked in the mirror, there were new sheets on the bed, her old clothes were gone, and a fresh set of soft fabrics lay atop the bed, with a note that she did not bother to read. Wanda only saw that it was signed by the king and understood what had happened easily enough. She dressed, and then hesitated. She had not planned on leaving the room at all, but she knew that she would be expected to eventually. She also knew, although she did not tremendously care, that she would starve if she did not go anywhere.

Wanda decided to read the note from T’Challa, hoping that perhaps there would be direction there, and the king did not disappoint. It was a simple message – the clothes were for her, as she had figured – and she was welcome to join the royals and the other Avengers for a meal if she felt up to it. If she did not appear, he would make sure food came to her room.

There was an out – she did not have to go face the others. Wanda knew, though, that it truly did not matter. They would see her one way or another, and a criminal in hiding was still a criminal. She could hide from the others but she could not hide from who she was. With only that and the broken record – _I should be dead_ – in her mind, she walked out the door that T’Challa had come in the night before.

* * *

 

The Avengers were loud, so it was not difficult to find them. Always fighting, always arguing, always causing a scene. Wanda slipped into the room, unnoticed by most. This, she was glad for. Perhaps she could eat and go back to the room – and then what? She had no answer, so she decided it did not matter. Before she could sit at the table, though, an unfamiliar hand grabbed her by the arm and turned her to face its owner. Wanda was shocked – a stranger, touching her so boldly, unafraid?

“You are late!” The accented voice told Wanda that it was a Wakandan, but when she took in who was addressing her, she did feel some surprise. It was the princess – Shuri, she thought. “Hurry up and eat! I want you in my lab as soon as possible so I can…”

“Shuri, release her and sit down. We have fought a war – the least you could do is let us eat breakfast in peace. Please, sit.” Her brother’s words seemed to put Shuri off, as she let Wanda go and went to sit by him.

“Fine! But I still want to get into this as soon as possible. You know…”

Wanda did not hear what the girl – god, she was so young – continued to say. She was too focused on the quietness, the vacuum that had been created among her teammates at the scene. The Black Widow was the only one brave enough to break the silence.

“Come sit down, Wanda.” She did not know what else to do, so she did as the other woman said. Ignoring the staples, the grand food that she did not know, she reached for some fruit. This, she thought she could stomach. The discussion they would have over the meal, though, she did not know.

Slowly, conversation filled the room again. “So I was thinking that we would leave tomorrow,” Stark continued, completely ignoring Wanda. She consequently tuned out of the conversation – it had nothing to do with her. She would not go with them, not unless they were taking her – arresting her. She did not belong anywhere, but at least in Wakanda they did not seem to care that she did not belong. If she was forced to face that fact along with all her other truths while living with the Avengers, she did not know what she would do. It was an unknown path either way, but she knew that at least if she stayed here, maybe she could hide a little while longer.

After a short time, she looked up at the princess. “Did you say you wanted me? I am done here.”

Shuri’s eyes lit up and she got excited once again. “Yes! Come with me, come with me.” The princess got up and moved so quickly that Wanda was startled, rushing to follow her. She did not look back at the Avengers, or the king. It was easier to just do what someone else told her to do. It was easier to just not think about anything – at least, what she could avoid thinking about.

“I am sorry about her. She is incredibly excitable, but I assure you that she means no harm. Don’t feel bad about telling her off – I give you permission as the king of Wakanda, not just as her older brother.”

Wanda had not realized that T’Challa had followed her, but it did not matter. She did not feel comfortable, or particularly uncomfortable, around anyone, but he was particularly neutral. Safe, at least for the time being. She knew he would eventually come to understand the monster that she was and all his kindness would end, but she could not worry about that now. She could not worry about anything.

T’Challa’s words prompted a response, but all Wanda did was nod. It was taking all of the energy that she had to just exist – breathing, putting one foot in front of the other. Honestly, she didn’t think she could use her magic if she tried. For the first time, Wanda realized that she was tired deep in her bones. There was so much else to feel, to process, but she could suddenly only focus on her tiredness. This, she thought, was at least better than pain.

She was impressed when they finally made it to Shuri’s lab. It looked much higher quality than the ones that she had been tested in – pulled apart, trying to understand her magic. Wanda pushed that thought away. Even if that was what they intended to do to her here, she could not care. It didn’t matter – nothing mattered. She held on to that thought as the princess began to talk again.

Then, the one thought that she didn’t want appeared – Vision. At first, Wanda thought she was just hallucinating. But then, she heard Shuri’s words, trying to understand what he had been. Trying to leverage the loss but gain the knowledge she would miss out on due to Wanda’s crime. It made her sick – why would they do this? Did they want to test her? She didn’t know anything, not anything that could help them. She didn’t notice that she had started screaming until she saw Shuri back away in fear, saw red in her hands, and felt T’Challa’s arm around her, ushering her from the room.

He was apologizing, that much she could tell, but she didn’t care, it didn’t matter, it didn’t matter. Wanda sank to the ground, feeling herself shake, but she could not stop. She could not stopping sobbing, stop screaming, stop shaking until the weariness took over and it all went dark.

She was grateful, at least, for this temporary peace. Whether she deserved it or not did not matter in that moment.

* * *

 

Over and over – _nothing matters_. When Wanda opened her eyes again, this was her first thought. Her second was that she was alone in the room she had slept in the night before. Her third thought was that no, she was not alone.

“I would never have brought you there if I had known that’s what she planned to question you about. I thought she wanted to know about your powers, something else, anything else. I am so sorry for the pain that I have caused you while you are already grieving. I only came to give my apologies, my condolences, and to let you know that the Avengers are leaving Wakanda in an hour. I will go now.”

Wanda could not bring herself to look at T’Challa because she simply did not understand him. Out of reflex, though, fear of being sent away with the others, she did speak. “I do not wish to go. If you are still offering, I would like to stay here. I will help your sister as much as I can. I am the one who is sorry.”

His hand felt heavy on her shoulder – what was it with them and being unafraid to touch her? “If you are sure, you are absolutely still welcome. Would you like me to bring the others here so you can speak to them yourself?”

“No – if you could, just tell them that I’m staying. If they ask why, tell them it does not matter.” It does not matter. Wanda knew she was being cowardly, sending T’Challa to face the Avengers for her, but it didn’t matter.

Nothing mattered. She would stay in Wakanda, as alone as possible.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping I wouldn't lose steam writing this. I did, a bit, but I was able to go through and get this chapter finished and proofread within a week, so we're on track! Thanks to everyone who's read this fic so far, and especially to those who left Kudos. Thanks for your support! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Not long after T’Challa had left her, Wanda heard footsteps and looked up to see Steve and Natasha enter her room. The captain was silent, stony-faced, and very unlike himself. Wanda didn’t care to ask why – it didn’t affect her.

“Here to convince me to go back with you? Or are we skipping that and going straight to the cuffs?”

Wanda had considered this possibility – that they would simply force her to return with them. It was an unpleasant situation, but she would not fight it. Pretty much all of her situations were unpleasant, these days. Surprisingly, the Black Widow raised her open hands, while the captain remained unmoving.

“No cuffs, Wanda. That’s not what we’re here for.”

“Then what exactly are you here for? What’s the point? If you will force me back to America to face my crimes I will not fight you. But if that is not your intention, as you say, then why be here? Why not go?”

Wanda didn’t understand where her sudden burst of anger had come from, but she also didn’t care. She was too tired to bother trying to figure out what she was feeling. Natasha came close to her, and Wanda recoiled. It was so out of character for the redhead to be so outwardly friendly that she didn’t trust it for a second. “We just wanted to say goodbye, and that you could come back to us whenever you want. If that ever becomes something that you want. We’re not going to put you in a cell, Wanda. You had to make an impossible decision, and you did it. No one could be angry at you for that.”

Wanda knew one person that could, but she didn’t feel that it was worth mentioning. “Goodbye, then.”

The Black Widow nodded and left without another word, which was more like her. Steve hesitated – conflict across his features being the first thing Wanda had seen him express since he had walked in the room. Whatever it was he may have wanted to say or do, he didn’t – he just left. Wanda didn’t blame him – what was there to tell a criminal who had accepted her crimes? When they left, Wanda supposed she should feel something – feel like her life was changing, that this was big or important in some way, but she couldn’t. Days passed, and Wanda did nothing. She simply stayed in the room, knowing that time was passing, but not really feeling it at all. T’Challa had come by, once, and upon seeing her state, made sure that food would be brought to her regularly, but decided it best not to disturb her.

* * *

Wanda did not know how much time had passed before she next left the room. She only knew that a new feeling was creeping up on her – guilt. Not guilt for her crimes, no, that was an inescapable constant. Guilt, though, for letting herself be a parasite. Here she was staying in the royal palace of Wakanda, eating their food, taking up space, and in exchange for what? She was ashamed so strongly that she almost rushed out the door, body and mind eager to find T’Challa and apologize, to try to make things better, even if she knew it was truly beyond her.

However, she stopped herself. He was a busy man, she was sure, and she couldn’t just rush out and interrupt him. Plus, she didn’t even know where he was at the moment. Wanda decided to try to take a moment and make herself presentable – her sedentary state had left her grimy, and while she didn’t particularly care, she thought it might make a difference to a king. So she calmed down, washed herself, and she waited. The next time that food was brought to her, she was able to gently thank the woman and tried to ask where she might find T’Challa. She quickly realized, though, that the woman did not speak English, and she did not even know what language they spoke in Wakanda.

Wanda felt like an absolute fool, even worse than she already had. She was leeching off the resources of this land and not only could she not speak their language, she did not even know what it was. Luckily for her, she was rescued from the awkwardness of her situation, hearing her  name called sharply from the other direction. When she turned, however, she was less relieved than she had been a moment earlier. It was the Wakandan general – a woman she had fought side by side with. A woman who had seen her crimes. Distantly, Wanda realized that she did not know her name.

“You did not return to America with your friends.” It was a statement, but Wanda knew it was also a question.

She decided she had nothing to lose by simply answering. “No, I did not. I thought perhaps things would be better off here, but I think I’ve come to understand that there truly isn’t a correct place for me to be.” Wanda knew she had given the woman more information than she needed, but it truly did not seem to matter. Nothing mattered – what would be the point of pretense? Of lies?

The general hummed, as if considering Wanda’s answer, but made no true remark on it. “I assume you are looking for the king. Follow me.”

Wanda didn’t know why it was so easy for her to guess her intent, but decided not to question it. The general – Okoye, that was her name, yes she remembered – led her through the palace. After a long series of hallways and stairs that Wanda could not have hoped to navigate on her own, they stopped at a room that must have been Okoye’s destination. Wanda followed the other woman into what resembled a study and took a seat only after the general did. There was no point in asking any questions – Okoye did not really seem to be the talkative type, and to Wanda, it was clear that they were waiting for T’Challa to join them.

The odd pair did not have to wait long, though, as another door to the room that Wanda had not noticed practically burst open at the hands of a large, burly man that Wanda did not recognize. T’Challa followed behind him, looking exasperated. At first neither of the men paid Wanda any attention, although she did see T’Challa nod at Okoye. However, a deep tension filled the room when the eyes of the first man met Wanda’s. He turned to T’Challa, incredulous.

“You have already brought foreigners here? You pretend to discuss these matters with me while you have already made your choices? You hide this from me, T’Challa?” Suddenly, the man turned to her. “And you, girl, what purpose do you have to be here? Why do you come to Wakanda?”

“It does not matter where I am, so when it was offered to me, I chose to be here. I am sorry for any offense this has caused you. I did not know. I do not know.” If only he knew her purpose for coming here, for speaking to T’Challa. She could not blame him for not wanting her there – who would? She was doing nothing for them.

T’Challa stepped in, physically separating Wanda from the stranger. “She has fought alongside us, M’Baku, that is why she was brought here, and why I have allowed her to stay. She is not representative of opening the borders – not yet. I would not insult you like this.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” M’Baku grunted, clearly done with the situation. He stomped to the door that Wanda and Okoye had come through, throwing one last angry glance at Wanda before opening the door and marching through it the same way he had entered the room. The door slammed behind him.

T’Challa sighed as he sat across from Wanda, next to Okoye. “I am sorry about that. He, much like my sister, tends to act and think only on emotion, not care. But we are not here to discuss M’Baku, or Shuri for that matter. What can I do for you Wanda?”

“That’s the thing – you’ve done too much for me already.” T’Challa’s words were enough to distract Wanda from the spectacle she had just witnessed. She was too tired to care about M’Baku – whoever he was – and his opinion of her, even if it was right. “I cannot be a parasite to you and your people.”

“You no longer wish to stay here? That is not an issue, I can…”

Wanda should have felt rude, cutting off a king, but the last thing that she wanted was for him to contact the Avengers, to send her away. “No, not that. I just need to work, or contribute back to you in some way. You have done so much for me and I have done nothing in return. I can work, or try to help the princess with what she wanted, or…”

“Can you?” This time, it was Okoye who cut Wanda off in her stern voice. “I have watched you sit endlessly, wallowing in your mind. Do you really think you’re in any position to be useful?”

“Okoye…” T’Challa started, but Wanda cut him off before he could defend her.

“No, she’s right. I have done absolutely nothing for you since coming here. Please understand, though, that it what I wish to make right.”

T’Challa was finally able to get a word in. “Do not think yourself a parasite. I do understand that this cannot have been easy for you. I am grateful for you to even try.” Okoye barely hid her snort, clearly apprehensive about the situation. Wanda couldn’t blame her. “Helping Shuri would be a good start, if you think you’re up for it. I know my sister can be a challenge.”

“If that is the best thing, I will absolutely try, King T’Challa.”

He smiled, still looking weary from his talks with the man from earlier – M’Baku, Wanda reminded herself. “There is no need to call me king. T’Challa is fine, Wanda. Unfortunately, I have things to take care of and discuss with Okoye, but I will call for Shuri.”

Wanda understood it as the dismissal that it was and stood, exiting the room as quietly as possible. She stood outside the door and waited for the princess, hoping that she could help, and hopefully keep herself together this time. She remembered how afraid Shuri had looked as she lost control in her lab, and strengthened her resolve that she would not do so again.

* * *

The young princess was even more excitable than Wanda remembered. She felt exhausted after the girl ran her through countless medical examinations and asked her a seemingly never-ending stream of questions, mostly about her powers. It honestly reminded Wanda of the many times that she had been captured, tortured, experimented on, and questioned, but she tried not to think about that. Shuri, at least, seemed like she truly only cared about knowledge and understanding for improvement. It wasn’t really easy for Wanda to trust anyone’s intentions, but the Wakandan princess truly seemed so genuine it was difficult to not trust her. Overwhelmingly, though, she just didn’t care. What did it matter if she turned out to be an evil genius? What did anything matter?

“Hello? Hello?” Wanda snapped out of it, seeing Shuri’s hand frantically waving in front of her face. “I haven’t gone too far again, have I? T’Challa will kill me.”

The girl’s misplaced worry about T’Challa being upset with her and not the actual consequences of what upsetting Wanda could be almost brought a smile to her face. “No, you have not. And I am the only one who should be sorry about what happened here the last time.”

“No, I was wrong. I can admit that, but let’s move on. It matters not now – it was in the past.” As much as Wanda knew Shuri only spoke of the incident from the lab, she couldn’t help but feel that the girl was as much wise as she was intelligent. There were many things that Wanda could not ever forgive herself more, but perhaps this was one.

Shuri took Wanda’s hands in her own. “So this is where the energy typically manifests, correct?”

“Yes, I guess you could say it that way. I can concentrate my power wherever I choose, really, but the hands are usually the easiest.” Shuri frowned, not at Wanda’s answer, but at the strange marks on Wanda’s wrists that she saw upon closer inspection.

“War wounds?” She asked, attempting to be delicate as she examined the hands between her own.

“You are not the first person to seek understanding of my power,” Wanda said, with a sigh. She was hoping to not be so transparent about this, although she did not quite know how it would have been possible to avoid it entirely.

Shuri’s lip trembled and she barely hesitated before throwing her arms around Wanda, which caught her off guard more than anything had in quite a long time. “I am so sorry!” the girl cried. “I was so thoughtless – please, forgive me, I didn’t mean to do this. The last thing I would want to do is hurt you any further.”

Wanda was so taken aback that she laughed before she could help herself, which at least got the princess to release her and take a step back with a look of confusion on her face. “You have done nothing wrong, princess. You are only trying to understand. I do not confuse this for the tortures of my past. Do not doubt that.”

“Very well,,” Shuri said, composing herself, “but you will tell me if I go too far, yes?”

“Of course,” Wanda responded, knowing that she was probably lying. It did not matter, though, since it seemed to satisfy the young girl.

The sound of someone clearing their throat from the entrance of Shuri’s lab interrupted their moment. “Little sister, will you come join me? If, of course, you are done here for now.”

“Sure, brother.” Shuri turned to Wanda, ready to excuse herself. Wanda was already standing from the examination table. “Will you come back – continue to work with me?”

Wanda did not know what more she could give the girl, but if it was anything to help, anything for her to help earn what they were giving her, she would try. She told Shuri as much, stepping around T’Challa, looking no less weary than he had earlier, and started walking. Truth be told, she did not know where she was going, but she did not want to bother them any further. It seemed as if Shuri and T’Challa had important business to attend to – and of course they did – they were royalty, she reminded herself.

When Wanda found herself at what seemed to be an exit – doors leading to the outside world – she hesitated. In her mind, she knew that she was technically free to go, but where would she go? If she left, would she be able to come back. After a moment, she turned, ready to get lost in the palace once again trying to actually find her room this time. Behind her stood Okoye, silent and with an unreadable expression on her face.

“You know,” the general started, “T’Challa insists you are not a prisoner here. Yet, you will not even go outside?”

Wanda would not look her in the eye. “His hospitality does not mean that I do not still consider myself a criminal, regardless of whether you all do. I would not even know what to do if I did go outside – so why bother?”

“Do not be a fool. I will not pretend to trust you, for that would be an insult to us both. But, you should know that I do not believe you to be a criminal. I believe you made an impossible decision and I also know that I saw you fight and do your best to defend this place. That is enough for me to respect you, at least. You think far too little of yourself.”

Frankly, Wanda did not know what to make of that. She made her best attempt to look Okoye in the eye and give her a half-smile. She did not agree with what the other woman said, but there was little room to doubt that Okoye meant the words that she said. This, at least, was a mild reassurance. Still, Wanda did not think it was the right time to go outside.

“I appreciate it, general. I do not know yet, if I should go out. Perhaps I will try again another time.” Wanda made up her mind and decided to try to go back to her own room.

“You are going the wrong way. Follow me.” Wanda thought for a moment she may have seen a hint of a smile on the general’s lips as she rolled her eyes, but she let it pass and followed Okoye. While she had been distracted for a time, the tiredness that was her new constant seeped back into the forefront of her mind, and she wanted nothing more than to rest.

Okoye, it seemed, had other plans.


End file.
